Summer Wine
by Eos Blaze 0402
Summary: He is a rock star. She is a broke fan who has nothing in her pockets, not even a dime. They meet in a lonely dark night. He is drunk, she is not. He is Elijah Mikaelson and she only has this one shot. What happens when sin tastes sweeter than virtue she guards. Does she succumb or does he break her heart?
1. Chapter 1

Chapter One

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**Strawberries, cherries and an angel's kiss in spring**

**My summer wine is really made from all these things…..**

* * *

Elijah Mikaelson was drunk on his success.

The taste in his mouth was sweeter than any wine; addictive than any drug he ever had the pleasure to use. They chanted his name as if they were in trance, paying him homage for his husky voice that ignited the lush fires of sin.

'Elijah' 'Elijah' 'Elijah'

His concert had ended two hours ago and they had followed him to his hotel. If he went on his window and peered outside, he would see mass of people waiting in the eager hope.

Music, his one and true love.

His lover, his mistress, his wife. The music that made him god for the people who didn't believe in gods and devil for those who worshiped the beauty of his many vices.

He was a man who had chased his dream, sacrificed a lot for it and had been rewarded a lot for it too. The only love he had ever known in his life was music. Sweet, precious, gritty, angry, dark music. Music with numerous shades and secrets.

The night called him. Called his name softly, as if she was inviting him for her bacchanalian saga of melody. The edgy, restless energy inside him intensified as his name was uttered by many in the hopes of a glimpse, of a man who was as much music as music was him.

He put on a random shirt from the closet over the skin tight jeans he had been wearing since concert. The keys of his new Bugatti were where he had left them early morning, on his bedside table.

As he walked out with his jacket slung on his back, the maid in the corridor paused to admire the sensuality that was Elijah Mikaelson. There were very few who could even make rags work for them and this man was one of those people.

* * *

Elena Gilbert was broke, homeless and roaming on the streets of an unknown city but fate was still not satisfied. No, she had to write a mugging incident in her destiny which resulted in loss of her phone, her only source of comfort. So in short Elena Gilbert was fucked up in a strange city where people had mean stares and no pity in their heart.

The rain was a soft shimmer and if she were back in Mystic Falls, she might have enjoyed it but here in New Orleans rain seemed like Satan's own vindictive daughter.

She wrapped her hands tightly around herself as the gust of wind made her shiver.

There was no one out on these deserted roads and she felt another slice of fear sinking in her skin. Why the hell had she decided running from home to see Elijah Mikaelson would be a good idea? Right now, it seemed like the worst one she ever had.

The throaty rumble of engine made her heart rate spike and she quickened her pace. God knew what kind of perverts frequented these streets.

The car slowed when it came beside her. It was a black Bugatti. Elena Gilbert wanted to touch the car because she had never seen something so magnificent in her ordinary life but self perseverance kept her walking.

The window rolled and the smell of whiskey assailed her senses. The strong smell indicated that the man had probably bathed in whiskey before he got in his million dollar car.

'Care for a ride baby?' the smooth husky voice made the hairs rise on her neck. It was the voice she had worshiped. Voice of the man who was proclaimed as the God of Music by his adoring fans.

She turned just to confirm that her mind was not playing any tricks on her, that he was indeed Elijah Mikaelson and not someone else.

And yes he was Elijah Mikaelson because he could be no one else.

White shirt carelessly unbuttoned, which gave a mesmerizing peek at his impressive musculature and myriad of tattoos that graced his skin were an impressive sight to behold. His hair was disheveled as if many hands had delved in its silky depths and his lips were red as if he had kissed scores of women.

'Baby, I don't have the whole night. Are you getting in?' he slurred.

What the hell was happening right now? Elijah Mikaelson was inviting her in his car. She didn't know Elijah Mikaelson personally. He could be a class A creep for all she knew.

'Darling, it's getting late and I don't think your regular Johns are going to come. So how much do you charge for a single night?' he asked. 'Never had to pay for sex before.' He mumbled.

It registered after a moment that he thought she was a prostitute working the streets. Elijah Mikaelson slipped down a bit from the pedestal she had kept him on. If it had been someone else, she would have given a scathing reply or run away as fast as she could but this was Elijah Mikaelson.

Her heart thudded, feet hesitated before moving towards the door he had unlocked. What kind of madness was she going to jump in? She looked at his face again. His eyes were on her and the passion simmering in them left her wanting for the forbidden fruit he offered.

The hesitation was locked away in a corner of her heart and mind as she got in his car, shutting the door after her and the Bugatti raced down the street….

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**This plot came to me in my dream and then it just couldn't let me sleep. So what do you think? Review below and let me know.**


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter Two

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**I walked in town on silver spurs that jingled to  
a song that I had only sang to just a few**

* * *

The morning was punishing as Elijah Mikaelson cursed the rays of sun filtering in from haphazardly closed curtains. His head was pounding and he was ruing the excess whiskey he had drunk last night.

Last night, the phrase ignited another memory of a girl, with lush brunette hair, warm chocolate eyes and a mouth that wrecked deliciously torturous havoc on a particular part of his anatomy. The innocence in those eyes might come for a price but it was a price Elijah was willing to pay.

She might be a prostitute and that veneer of virtue might be a facade but it was damn good one. He looked around to see where she had gone and his eyes landed on the cash he had given her last night. They were on his bed side table, all crisp bills of hundred folded neatly and sitting with the money was a folded note written on a page from his notebook.

_**Thanks but no thanks Mr. Mikaelson, I amn't a prostitute, just a fan…**_

There was no signature, just a single line that brought sweat popping on his brow. Who the hell was this girl? He had assumed she was a prostitute when he had seen her walking alone in the disreputable neighborhood of New Orleans. Was she some reporter? Bloody hell, if she was a reporter then he was going to be a media notoriety when she broke the story.

He remembered her face. Even in his drunken splendor he was aware that hers wasn't a face anyone forgot. All that striking beauty, guilelessly wrapped in a package of sex, it had been his undoing. He could hear the words in his head begging to be arranged in a melody. He was tired, he had a nasty hangover but still the compulsion to describe what he had felt last night was too much to resist. He got up and lifted his notebook from where she had left it. He was still naked and he reeked of sex, he knew the logical course of action would be to take a shower, couple of pills for that pounding in his head but when had Elijah Mikaelson been logical and rational?

He pulled on his sweatpants and sat with his guitar in his hands, his notebook lying nearby, opened on a blank page. The fingers moved on their own accord, the melody in his head taking shape, the words spilling out on the pages.

**Bring your love baby I could bring my shame  
Bring the drugs baby I could bring my pain  
I got my heart right here  
I got my scars right here  
Bring the cups baby I could bring the drink  
Bring your body baby I could bring you fame  
And that's my motherfucking words too  
Just let me motherfucking love you…**

* * *

Elena Gilbert didn't know how she had gotten here. One moment she had been wandering in the streets, hungry and holding the taste of forbidden fruit, Elijah Mikaelson on her lips and in the next she was here, in the famous record producing studio, 'Hybrid' wolfing down omelets as Klaus sat opposite her with a smirk on his face.

'The moment I heard that voice I knew, you were what I was searching for sweetheart.' His British accent sent chills running down her spine.

He had heard her on his morning coffee break. Round the corner from his favorite coffee shop, he had seen a crowd of people and had heard the most overwhelming voice in his whole life. She had been singing along the band that used to sing regularly on that corner.

The wrinkled clothes, tired eyes and bowed stature did nothing to deter attention from her, the real her that sparked like a priceless gem.

She would be great, he would make her great. Far greater than Elijah Mikaelson ever had been…

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**So what do ya think? Review below and let me know. And thanks a lot for the reviews, favs and follows, guys. You are the best. Till then stay safe and stay tuned for the next chapter of 'Summer Wine'.**


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter Three

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**My eyes grew heavy and my lips they could not speak**

**I tried to get up but I could not find my feet…**

* * *

"Are you ready, Elena?"

Elena Gilbert turned to see the man standing behind her.

Klaus.

She gave a relieved sigh as her hands sought his to relieve her nerves.

Today was the day she was going to face the world as who she was.

Elena Gilbert, the woman with the elusive voice that had enchanted millions of people.

It had started on that memorable day, when Klaus had brought her back to his studio from the street corner where she had been singing. Amid the bites of delicious breakfast that she had been gulfing down, he had managed to extract the whole story of her life.

Deceased parents, uncaring guardians and a junkie kid brother weren't the only things that she had left behind in Mystic Falls. She had left her every bad dream in the place which never let anyone escape its clutches.

Here, Klaus had nurtured her voice.

He had pushed her, scolded her, praised her and comforted her in this brief journey that had left her standing in the stratosphere of the music industry with a chosen few. She had shared everything with Klaus except for one small thing, and that was her encounter with Elijah Mikaelson.

Somewhere it felt as if that memory was hers and hers alone.

Elijah Mikaelson.

She had thought a lot about him. Every moment that she had spent outside the studio on the streets of New Orleans was filled with his thoughts. Elijah too was signed with Klaus's studio 'Hybrid', but it was Kol who dealt with Elijah on a regular basis.

She didn't know what the scene between Klaus and Elijah was, but it was evident that there was something. The imperceptible tightening of Klaus's jaw every time Elijah was mentioned was a dead giveaway.

She hadn't inquired deeply because she could see the minute freckles of pain dance in Klaus's eyes, something that she was sure he didn't want anyone to know.

Klaus had become more than a mentor.

He was her confidant and her friend.

Kol sometimes jokingly called Klaus 'angel of the music', but Elena truly felt he was an angel of music.

She didn't know why he had never sung professionally. He had a beautiful voice. Sometimes he would join her on the piano when she was struggling with words and verses. His voice would flow to envelop hers and in that moment, nothing existed except him and his voice.

In a way, Klaus's voice reminded her of Elijah. Dark, sultry and mysterious; his voice could be a twin of Elijah's except it lacked the raw grit that Elijah's voice possessed.

"What are you thinking about, Elena?"

She shook her head and concentrated on the man.

Clad in his trademark Henley and dark jeans, he was a force to be reckoned with. The bad boy smile, the dimples, and the charm was a bonus that came with a sexy British accent and intense gaze.

"I'm just a bit nervous about the performance."

"Don't worry, sweetheart. You're gonna be fabulous." He looked behind her at a technician signaling the time. "The music's gonna start in a moment. You okay?"

She nodded her head because she was too terrified to speak.

He gave her a brief hug and then turned around to walk away. She wanted to call him back, or better run after him and hide behind him. He had been her smokescreen these past two years when her songs had gone viral and popularity had knocked on her door.

Before today all she had to do was sing, but from now on it was going to be different.

She knew everything was going to change.

She heard the opening notes.

She took a long breath and straightened her back.

In a moment, the curtain would rise and the world would see the new hot find from 'Hybrid'.

She was going to make Klaus proud.

* * *

_**And I know he'll be the death of me,**_

_**at least, we'll both be numb**_

_**and he'll always get the best of me,**_

_**the worst is yet to come,**_

_**but at least we'll both be beautiful**_

_**and stay forever young…**_

It was a kick.

It was something Elijah had never expected.

Everyone had been agog to know more about the mysterious Elena whose voice had taken the world by storm.

People had heard her sing and they had wanted to know more about the woman who could make music an addiction.

He had wanted to know about her too.

All anyone had managed to get was that she was a new find of Klaus or the 'Hybrid' as people in the business called him.

Klaus had kept her securely under the wraps.

Now, he knew why.

The girl singing on stage was an epitome of beauty. Clad in a simple red dress, she was innocence personified. Her words were a desperate ode while her eyes were a gentle realization.

How had he thought that his brother had forgiven him for what had happened all those years ago?

Klaus remembered.

The girl who serenaded a lover long gone in front of him was none other than the girl he had picked that night in an unnamed New Orleans street.

He turned to look at his brother, and true to his guess Klaus was looking at him.

Klaus's lips were curved in a smile, but his eyes were inky in their hate…

**Leave me some love in the review section, people. **


	4. Chapter 4

**Let me start with this. I have seen many writers bemoaning the fact that they don't like guest reviewers and guest reviewers leave not so favorable comments. But you guys are the best, and I'm so proud to tell all those authors that my guest reviewers are the nicest people I know online. Thanks a bunch for a lot of reviews, you guys. **

**I know I'm late with this chapter but I've my exams coming up and there is a lot of academic juju going around. So, thanks for being patient. And lovely lilyrose, this one's for you, girl. I don't own Vampire Diaries.**

**That's all, people. Rant over. You can proceed with the chapter…**

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Chapter Four

She reassured me with an unfamiliar line  
and then she gave to me more summer wine…

* * *

Elena Gilbert was tired and she was completely drunk.

After the countless hours spent standing in her sky high heels and chest cinching bodice of her gown, she just wanted to tumble in her bed and go to sleep for next five days.

Seriously, how did all of those big stars do these things?

Singing was one thing, and socializing was entirely another.

'Easy, darling,' Klaus said as he guided her inside the foyer. This fairytale castle she lived in was courtesy of Klaus. After existing on ordinary things, and being the ordinary thing, it was heady to be extraordinary. It felt unreal when the people you had only seen on TV gushed about what an amazing singer you were.

'Did you see even Beyonce stood up when I finished singing.' Her eyes were as big as saucers and her lips were as loose as purse strings of all those _nouveau rich_ that had graced her party today.

'Yes, I did see that. Now, be a good girl and let me open the buttons of your gown.' He made her stand before a mirror and started working on the small buttons that dotted the back of her dress in a single line with the efficiency of a button Nazi.

'Don't move!' he admonished when she swayed.

'You aren't scary.' The sudden silence that followed her statement was eerie, as it was enlightening.

Klaus cleared his throat as if he were unsure what to say next.

'I met whats-her-name pop diva, Hayley. She was telling me you were an absolute beast and she was so glad that now Kol was handling her contract and publicity.' She turned around abruptly. She wanted to see his eyes.

His eyes never lied.

'I didn't disappoint you today, did I Klaus?' His approval meant the world. She didn't care for all those standing ovations and compliments. His one 'you did all right, Elena' would be worth everything she had gained today.

'You were spectacular, love,' he said gently as he coaxed her into her pajamas.

He made her brush her teeth and removed the makeup they had put on her face in the morning. He then led her to her bed-the queen sized four poster that she had fallen absolutely in love with-and opened the covers for her to slid in.

'Klaus?' Her eyes were drowsy, but she knew this was important and she had to say this now. From beneath her closing eyelids, she could see him standing at her door, poised to switch off the light.

'Yes, love.'

'Thank you for everything you've done for me. I wanted to tell Hayley that the Klaus I know is the sweetest man I've ever known, but we won't want your reputation to suffer now, would we?' She tried to wink and failed spectacularly, making him smile in the process. 'I wanted to tell her that my Klaus is every girl's definition of Prince Charming, but she didn't give me a chance to.' She pouted at the memory of Hayley cutting her in between her answer.

'It's okay, love. Prince Charmings fail at contract negotiations,' he joked.

'But then by my third glass of champagne that Kol had handed me, I came to a conclusion that it's okay if nobody knows about my Klaus. I know, and that's enough.'

'You should sleep, sweetheart. You'll have a nasty hangover in the morning.' He had come inside the room and sat on the edge of her bed.

'He was also there,' she continued as if she hadn't heard him. 'It was a surprise watching him sitting in the front row, but then I should've expected him.'

* * *

Klaus knew the answer to the question of identity of the man she talked about and still he wanted her to spell out the name he hated more than anything else in the world. He had always suspected the story she was unwittingly going to tell him in the haze of alcohol. He would have welcomed this confidence once upon a time. Hell, he had picked her from streets with the sole purpose of hurting Elijah but then he hadn't known she would have such ethereal voice or such naïve heart.

Now, he would rather not listen to the details she was going to tell him, but fate had no mercy for Klaus Mikaelson.

Despite his hard efforts of tuning her out, the snippets of her story registered with his mind.

'…picked me up from the street…'

'…whore…'

'…hundred dollar bills on his table…'

How had he lost the sight of his own revenge?

He had the perfect plan of sending Elena Gilbert to Elijah and then luring her back. Now, he couldn't dream of hurting a hair on this angel's head.

Elena's story was opening the floodgates of the memories he preferred in their respective cages.

'…_I'm sorry, Nicklaus, but Tatia loves me...'_

'…_You were just a means so that I could get to your brother...'_

'…_You're no longer my brother, Nicklaus...'_

His hands fisted in the sheets as he tried to rein those poisonous scenes teeming his mind. By the time he had regained the control that had been severely threatened to the point of loss, Elena was already asleep.

'Sweet dreams, Elena,' he whispered as his lips touched her forehead.

She was infinitely precious, and he would save her.

Even from himself…

* * *

The sound of the front door being forcibly closed roused Elijah from his nap on the couch. When had he fallen asleep?

He was still in his dress shirt and pant; his jacket discarded somewhere he couldn't remember.

'The vices getting to you, Elijah?'

_Was this a dream? What was Nicklaus doing in his house at this hour of the night?_

'Nicklaus, what are you doing here?'

'Well, I once had vowed to never step in any house you own, but I'm breaking it for starters.' Klaus turned, and his eyes were venomous. Elijah could see the past reflected in those dark blue eyes, and for a moment he wished he were a lesser man so that he could avert his face.

'Stay away from Elena Gilbert, Elijah.'

'Why? Do you have a claim on her?' Elijah couldn't stop himself from slipping into his old habits.

'Yes, and do remember I'm not the same naïve kid I once was when you fired me from being your manager and almost made me beg on streets for food.' Klaus took a step back and only half part of his face was illuminated sinisterly in the soft light of Elijah's living space.

'I'm the hybrid now, brother. And god save you if you don't heed my warning…'

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**What do you think? I listened to Aurora's Winter Bird while writing this. She is marvelous, guys. Go; check her stuff out on YouTube if you already aren't a fan. Leave some love for me in the review sections and I'll be the happiest of people. Take care, guys and I'll be back soon with the next installment of this story.**

**Love y'all.**


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter Five

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He was watching her.

Again.

Elijah didn't know what it was about Elena Gilbert that drew his eye, but he found himself insanely attracted towards her. Maybe it was because she was something that Klaus claimed belonged to him, or maybe it was because she had been struck like an unbroken litany in his head since he had picked her up that night from the streets. Whatever the reason be-she was the one thing that was the constant part of his ever-changing life.

She was clad in a short dress of blue tonight-the color of Klaus's eyes.

Since the day his brother had come raging like an avenging angel in his home to deliver his warning, Elijah found that he wanted Elena Gilbert more desperately.

People would call it being a dick; he just called it competitive spirit.

He and Klaus had competed from childhood for everything. Be it sleeping space in their cramped one room childhood apartment or last day's leftover pasta-Elijah Mikaelson had never learnt to lose. He had lied, cheated, stepped on the necks of his own siblings for survival, and he would do it all again in a heartbeat if it meant he got what he wanted.

Klaus had been the result of their mother's dalliance with a mob boss which had supremely aggravated their low-life drug selling and whore pimping father. Klaus had never been spared an ounce of kindness, let alone love. Whereas he had been the perfect prince of their parents.

Naïve Klaus had adored him. He had thought Elijah had hung the stars, moon and sun, and Elijah had let him believe it until he could use Nicklaus for being who he was today.

There were sins, grave sins in his ledger that could never be erased. Were he someone else, he would have stayed far away from Elena. She made shadows in Klaus's eyes retreat. She made him smile. She made Klaus, Nicklaus.

But Elijah was a selfish man, and he had tasted the sun once. The brilliance and radiance of Elena Gilbert still lingered on his tongue, and her voice resonated in his head.

She was an angel who had fallen from heaven to redeem the devil in him.

And he would be a fool if he let Nicklaus steal his salvation.

* * *

Elena excused herself from the conversation that flowed between Kol and Marcel.

Talks of profit and business brought out her inner child and all she wanted to do was to stick her tongue out. Klaus had deserted her about an hour ago on the pretext of socializing with all the important people who had come for her album launching party.

It was a success, and if Klaus had his way, her album would be double platinum in no time.

Truth to be told, she was still afraid of these parties and socializing. Maybe, she always would be. It was not her scene. She could pretend to act like these people, talk like them, walk like them, but she wasn't one of them.

She would always feel like an imposter 'cause inside she would always remain Elena Gilbert from Mystic Falls. Never the glamorous songstress Elena that Klaus had molded her to be.

'Do I need to ply you with liquid courage again, love?' His voice was a husky whisper in her ear, and she smiled despite feeling a bit sad. She turned, and there he was. Standing close enough from where she could see the flecks of gold in his blue eyes-Klaus was a perfect picture of nonchalance with a flute of champagne dangling from his fingers.

'Did Camille try to push herself in your face again?' she asked with mock severity, her eyes gleaming with mischief.

'And what if she did, lovely Elena? Will you give her a dressing down because you're jealous?' The smirk on his lips was overtly familiar.

'Certainly, Nick. Didn't I tell you once before that you're prince among men?'

And together they laughed before she hurried off to the rest room. Her bladder was about to burst. There was a limit on the amount of champagne a girl could drink without turning French.

Camille was a pop-starlet who had her eyes set on Klaus from even before Elena was in the picture. She tried to entice Klaus on every occasion they met, and she had somewhat become the running joke between Klaus and Elena.

It was good to have something just two of them could laugh about.

Klaus had changed.

It had not been anything monumental, just a slight shift from the way he used to behave before. Now, his eyes lingered a bit more on her face, he stood a little closer to her in places like these and sang much more frequently when she requested. Had she not known him, she would have never noticed the change in him.

Now, he smiled a bit more freely.

She liked the changes in him. He was meant to be happy. He was meant to soar in light, not hide in shadows. Somehow, she didn't know why but she could tell that all he'd ever done in his life was to hide.

And then there was the menace that he radiated when Elijah Mikaelson was in vicinity.

She had never asked for that particular snippet from his history, but the dark hideous anger in his eyes was enough to tell that something had happened between them. Something that could never be corrected with apologies.

He would tell her when he was ready.

And one day she was sure, he would be ready to tell her the whole ugly story of what Elijah Mikaelson had done to him…

* * *

The scream never left her throat when she was dragged back into the shadows of the corridor. Elena was panicking before she caught that smell of sharp spice coming from her attacker.

She had only known one man who smelled like that; only man who'd ever mistaken her for a prostitute.

Elijah.

He turned her sharply in the circle of his arms, every inch of his body touching hers.

'You look lovely, Elena. The color suits you.' His voice was a husky memory, one that threatened to make her forget the time and place and lose herself in him. 'But then red looks much more exquisite on you, or say black. Black becomes you, Elena. It brings out your skin much more than this paltry blue.'

His lips were on the shell of her ears, his hands around her body making it hard to step away from him.

'Tell me, Elena. Do you enjoy when Klaus kisses you like you did with me?'

It was a cold slap.

One that she should have expected.

The mere insinuation that what she and Klaus shared was something common and cheap made her stomach roil in disgust and blood boil in her veins.

'And what if I did, Elijah,' she said harshly, her voice as cold as his rumored heart.

He let her go. The act was sudden, and she felt herself stumbling, wobbling on those sky high heels.

'Then you are the greatest fool, Elena,' he said as he took her hands to steady her on her feet. 'Nicklaus likes all things I like. He wants everything I want.'

'What do you want to say?' She snatched back her hand. The mere touch of his fingers on her palm had felt incendiary.

'I'm sure you're capable of working out that whole story from your precious Klaus.' He stepped closer, his breath falling on her open lips. 'Ask him why he decided to lavish his attentions on you, Elena. Ask him why he moved heaven and earth to make you the brightest star that shines in the world of music currently. And while you're doing that, do remember how it felt to be in my arms, lovely Elena,' he said as he pulled her in his body, his lips capturing hers with the single intent of showing her how much she affected him…

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**Review below and let me know.**


	6. Chapter 6

Chapter Six

The silence in the car had grown to become an entity in itself. Elena had refused to speak since they'd left the party. His every question had been either answered in a monosyllabic word or a motion of her head.

Klaus had grown accustomed to Elena's voice, and that is why the silence was much more invading today.

As the car ran on the deserted roads of New Orleans towards Klaus's villa outside the city, Elena did nothing but stare out of the window as if she found the rushing trees and lamp posts much more interesting than him.

"Elena?" It was maybe umpteenth time that he was calling her name, but like every other time before she ignored him. She'd been this way since she'd come from freshening herself up.

He was certain this was all Elijah's fault.

If it was left on Klaus, he would have thrown his brother out of his company years ago, but thankfully or unthankfully-depending on whose side you were-Kol had reasoned with him and they'd agreed that Kol would handle Elijah exclusively and big brother wasn't to show his ugly mug in Klaus's office ever again.

Parties were the only place where Klaus and Elijah came before each other. And they spent the whole time trying to ignore each other with gusto.

"Why me, Nicklaus?"

The first thing that registered with Klaus was that she'd never called him by his full name. From the very beginning, he'd been Nik for her.

He liked being Nik with her.

And then the question hit him like a blow after the initial realization.

She knew.

Fucking Elijah!

His hands were shaking, and he didn't trust himself not to plow into an oncoming car or truck. He pulled his car on the side of the road, his heart trembling inside his chest.

If Elena had been someone else, he would have lied without batting an eyelash. But Elena knew him.

And she deserved nothing but the truth from him.

"What do you want me to say, Elena?" he asked, turning towards her as he laid his head on the steering wheel.

She looked at him with a desperation that he too was feeling.

Her eyes were filled till brim and if she blinked once more, the tears would fall on her cheeks. He didn't want those tears to fall. He didn't want her to shed a single tear because of him.

"Lie to me…"

The tears made a straight line on her cheeks to fall on the fabric of her dress.

He couldn't take it anymore.

He pulled her in his arms, from her seat to his lap. He knew his hold was too tight, and she would bruise where his fingers dug into her arms, but he couldn't stop himself. Feeling her was as elemental to him as breathing or living.

She'd come in his gray life with a burst of colors, and unique melodies of her songs. She'd come in his life like the final ray of the sun in a cold wasteland.

She'd drawn him out from his hard shell, and soon even he couldn't recognize his face in the mirror.

"I wanted to hurt him, Elena. I wanted to hurt him as he'd hurt me, and I was so blinded by my revenge that I refused to see who else I hurt in my quest," he said softly, his hands wiping the moisture off her cheeks. "You were nothing but a means to an end in the beginning." He winced as she stiffened in his arms, her eyes accusing as they met his.

"But then stubborn Elena Gilbert started to beg me to take her home because she was afraid to drive on the streets of New Orleans. After that, she started to invite me for late night mac and cheese. And then she was demanding I sing along with her to give her some sort of clarity for her songs," he whispered. "And then Elena Gilbert was such a big part of my life that I could do nothing but watch myself change from my beastly self to something closely resembling a human."

She gave him a watery smile. "So, Klaus Mikaelson isn't the heartless bastard he started out as?"

"Neither is Elena Gilbert the same runaway."

They sat silently, her head on his heart where she could hear the solid regular thump. His fingers were pulling out the pins from her elaborate hair-do.

She got headaches if she left the pins for more than four hours.

He remembered.

There was nothing about this woman in his arms that he didn't remember. He remembered the first time he'd heard her sing, the first time he'd seen her, the first time he'd dragged her to a party. He perfectly recalled every back-breaking hour they'd spent in the recording studio, perfecting her melodies and lyrics.

There was nothing that he didn't know about this woman.

From her wasted guardians to her junkie kid brother, Klaus had heard everything.

Even the part where Elijah had grouped her with rest of his groupie entourage.

There was something fundamentally vulnerable about Elena Gilbert beneath that entire happy go lucky attitude, and it tugged at his heart strings.

She burrowed in him for comfort and he clutched her fiercely. He wanted to hide her somewhere, so that no one ever hurt her again.

Elijah had come too close today.

Klaus couldn't allow Elijah to tarnish something as naïve and beautiful as Elena.

He'd ditched his plans of revenge because of Elena, but that didn't mean that he could let Elijah go unpunished.

Klaus had forgiven Elijah once for hurting him, but this time, Elijah had tried to play his vile games with Elena.

Elijah was going to learn his lesson of what happened to the people who made Klaus's queen cry…


End file.
